Drowning
by VTStarCosmic
Summary: It was dark, the waters were rough, and he was sinking into the ocean...along with everything else that he cared about. [Post-Revenge of Meta Knight]


_Note: This takes place immediately after the Halberd is downed in Revenge of Meta Knight._

 _Also, shoutouts to Metanaito-kyou on here and DeviantArt for drawing a cover for this fic! Thank you so much! ^-^_

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The ocean. It looked so calm from the beach…but he knew—and not just from science—that water was a powerful force. From doing something as minute as finding its way into a house and rotting some planks, to wiping out creatures, and structures, and houses…water was no force to be trifled with. Large bodies of it like this could easily become dangerous or destructive when pulled by gravity or disrupted by shifting earth. Even volcano tremors from far away could trigger massive water walls out of the sea.

He knew the waters of Orange Ocean were dangerous after sunset. Not just because of the sea creatures out there for their feeding times, but because of the powerful currents strengthened by the tide. Setting foot in the ocean at night was foolish, especially when the tides were shifting. These waters could kill someone if they didn't know what they were doing, or if they were without a plan to get back to shore.

And he was caught several feet under those waters, with no plans on how to get back to shore, and little knowledge outside of what he'd studied for dealing with fluid mechanics. The Halberd had sunk into Orange Ocean as an exploding mess, and he'd barely missed his chance to escape…leaving him bloodied and burned in the middle of the ocean. He'd heard sailors talking about emergency plans a few times in the past, but that was for boats. What one would do if they were caught _in_ the water, alone and without a ship, was never brought up. He was all alone, with his own judgment to decide his fate.

The first thing he chose to do was swim upward—or at least, he hoped it was upward. He had clenched his eyes shut to keep out the saltwater, but he had a good feeling that the direction he was swimming would get him somewhere. Not just 'somewhere'…somewhere with _air_. He needed air and the chance to empty his mouth; the shock from hitting the water had knocked some water into it. He felt one or two of his belongings float upward, knocked loose from impact…along with several ship pieces that either sank, or started to float. He desperately pawed at some of the rising pieces of wood, but as his eyes were still shut, he could only touch them for a millisecond before they vanished.

He had to get to the surface. He didn't know how far away it was, but he knew he'd need air eventually. He could hold his breath a little longer than most could, but his body still needed air to survive, and nothing would change that.

 _Don't think about suffocating; not now. Just survive. Swim to the surface and find some debris to cling on; that's all you have to do in order to live. Stay alive. Don't panic._

But trying not to panic was difficult when you were close to death, and weren't sure if any of your efforts guaranteed you would survive.

 _Calm down. Focus. Just keep moving your paws so you can reach the surface and breath._

 _What would it be like to die this way, though?_

No. It was bad to be curious. Actually, it was bad to waste time being curious when he should be focusing on fighting for his life. He could wonder what it was like to suffocate _after_ he had made it to the surface. He was becoming more and more appreciative of oxygen by the second; life without air was a strange thought, but not one he wanted to live out himself.

 _Would it be painful?_

 _Don't think about it—just keep your mouth closed and_ _ **swim.**_

He tried his best to push through the swirling water, kicking his paws as fast as he could. It had been a while since he'd swam, despite living in Orange Ocean for the past year, and he was quite a bit out of practice. He'd spent his energy on other skills that would further the Halberd and his crewmates, and when would he have ever needed swimming skills when most battles were fought on land or in a boat?

He suddenly felt the surface, and tried to pull himself above it, gasping for breath—and getting shoved back underwater not half a second later by a wave. Desperation coursed through him, and he tried again…only to get similar results. The surface was literally within his grasp, yet he couldn't reach it long enough to survive.

 _You can do it!_

 _It's right there!_

He tried again.

 _Quick, breathe in!_

A wave slapped him underwater, turning him upside down this time. He expelled the slight breath of air he'd managed to grab, realizing with dismay what might happen to him.

 _Don't die!_

He didn't want to die. He was still young! He'd barely started his future; there were still so many more things he thought would be interesting!

 _And so many people that you didn't say 'thank you' to…_

Was…was he just going to die out here?

All alone, as food for the sharks?

 _No,_ he thought to himself. _Keep swimming. You need to breathe!_

He was trying his best; he really was, but the longer he went without air, the more his body rebelled against him, and the more water he had to tread to get back to the surface. The ocean was chilly so far from the shore, and his muscles were getting sore from his losing battle against the water. The swirling water pulled the heat out of his body and dragged him away from the air.

He wanted to survive, but deep down, he wasn't sure how much longer his body could make it.

 _Keep—Keep fighting!_

He swung his paws desperately, searching for the surface of the ocean. The results were fruitless, and all he found was more saltwater.

 _If you don't swim…you're dead._

But he couldn't do this anymore.

 _I deserve this. I couldn't save the ship, or any of my crewmates…I can't even stop myself from drowning. I should be able to do something…I_ _ **should**_ _have been able to do something for the Halberd; maybe…stop it, or…_

His focus slipped as his body convulsed again, and he barely managed to keep his mouth shut. His body felt like it could implode, whether it be from lack of air, or pressure from the water. The current was dragging him around again; he could feel it. Or was it undertow? Maybe both? He wasn't educated in oceanography or even the basics of the sea, but he knew that as far out as he was, getting back to the shore was going to be a tremendous challenge—if he made it that far. The flow of the water made his fight to what he believed was the surface even more difficult, and he was running out of air.

It was like he was the ocean's little playtoy; just a limp doll in the current for it to toss around as it pleased.

Most normal people would have been struggling at this point, trying to avoid their inevitable deaths…but he was different. He recognized that his struggle would be in vain, and he accepted it. He never thought things would end this way, but…there was no hope for him. He was in the middle of the ocean at its most dangerous time, _alone._ Nobody had any means to save him, and he didn't expect them to. They'd be lucky if they even knew where he was out here, anyway…

His instincts were fighting against his will. He needed air, and his body didn't care that he was underwater.

 _Don't open your mouth._

 _You'll die if you do; fight it!_

His body hurt so badly from the saltwater in his wounds, and he could feel the tightness in his throat—right before he opened his mouth.

 _No!_

Scientifically, it was impossible to breathe water. He accepted that as a fact, and dearly wished that his belief of it could lead to avoidance of proving it. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case. His lungs tried to grab air that didn't exist, but could only latch onto water…and this felt entirely less than pleasant. This was the type of pain that he couldn't _stand_ ; it took a while before it completely faded—well, it would have, normally, but he probably wouldn't make it that far, if he was lucky to 'make it' anywhere, at this point. Where could he? There weren't even any rocks out here; the water was too deep.

 _So this is what drowning feels like, and…dying._

 _I'm sorry…I mean every word; I'm sorry…_

 _I just wished I'd said it instead of staying silent after how well you've all treated an outsider like me…_

He barely felt it, but he realized he'd been crying since his eyes got water in them. He only recognized it now because he was so disappointed in himself.

 _I've been…such a fool…_

He couldn't tell whether his chest burned from the lack of air, or the presence of seawater. His body tried to cough, but that required opening his mouth, which only made his situation worse.

 _Why…Why won't…If…_

His brain couldn't function without oxygen, and he was severely depleted of that element. He'd used up what little air he had in futile attempts to make it to the surface.

As much as he'd willed himself to keep fighting, he lacked the physical strength to carry it out. His body relaxed as his mouth slipped open, but his body felt too numb to even process the pain that brought on again. His world was already dark; he'd closed his eyes to block out the saltwater, but now there was no way to open them even if he wanted to.

 _I'm dead. There's no way anything could save me like this..._

Even with his body so numb he couldn't feel the burn from his wounds, he still felt the freezing chill from the water cradling him just below the surface as someone brushed against his arm, grasping it. The sudden warmth stung as it broke through the cold, though it was quickly gone, replaced with a faint feeling of something wrapping around his arm.

 _Wait._

 _…_ _ **is**_ _someone there?_

Even though he was probably just imagining things, he tried to move his paw toward where he believed his rescuer may have been, but his body wouldn't respond to anything he wished. In the back of his mind, he could have sworn someone was dragging him through the water somewhere…but his senses were too deadened to confirm this, and he wasn't sure if he could still consider himself conscious at this point. His body was still dying out, because without air—

"Oh gosh! Are you—hey, wake up; are you okay?!"

He wasn't underwater anymore. Someone had risked their life to save him from drowning. By a miracle, he may at least have some hope of being saved now. His mind was too depleted of resources for him to realize that he wasn't breathing; he just recognized that all of his body felt terribly heavy—and this, of course, included his powerful lungs.

 _Somebody saved you. Who was it?_

For a few brief seconds, he managed to force his eyes open and catch a glimpse of his surroundings. With his back on the floor of a plastic raft, he barely even noticed how limp and unresponsive his body was. The panicked cry of alarm he heard was so far away from his mind that it may as well have been a whisper, as with any other dialogue he may have heard. He could feel distant tingling sensations wherever his savior touched him, perhaps to check for a pulse…and as he slipped away, that didn't really matter. The sunset flashed into his mind as a brief background element, but in the five seconds of consciousness he got above the water, four of them were spent on the person who saved him.

 _Sailor Dee…_ A smile flickered briefly across the puff's face before he slipped into blackness. _Thank you…_

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C/N: No, Meta's not dead; yes, it was Meta's POV here. I got a bit of confusion upon posting this and thought I would clarify ^^;


End file.
